


Fish Bowl

by siriuslywinchester



Series: Toro Brosso [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Apartment, Gen, Party, toro rosso
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3843685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslywinchester/pseuds/siriuslywinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos and Max decide to have a party in the Toro Brosso appartment.  Max leaves Carlos to tidy up while he goes to buy food and drink but receives a strange request from his team mate which results in disaster.</p><p>inspired by <a href="http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/115517954994/imagine-person-a-getting-their-head-stuck-in-a">this</a> OTP Prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fish Bowl

"Let's have a party tonight!" Carlos exclaimed one morning after they'd been living in the shared apartment for a while, "Invite all the Toro Rosso and Red Bull guys, it'll be fun!"

Max had been considering the idea himself for a while, but didn't want Carlos to think he was into wild parties and drinking so hadn't mentioned it. It wasn't that he really partied that much anyway - he wasn't really old enough - but he had enjoyed the few house parties he'd attended in the past and really wanted to try hosting one himsely.

"Yes!" he said, his eyes lighting up, "I was thinking we should, too."

Both of the men looked around them and acknowledged the mess that they had created in the short time they'd lived together. Max looked up at Carlos, who was staring with a horrified expression at the cleaning task that lay before them.

"I'll go get the drinks and food, you text everyone and tidy up!" Max shouted, running for the door with a triumphant grin on his face as he grabbed his keys and evaded the mess.

The door slammed closed behind him and Carlos was left with the bombsite around him, wondering where best to start.

Max jumped into his new car, recently bought having finally been allowed to take his test, and drove down to the shop hoping that the girl he'd managed to flatter with his broken Italian was working today. Last time, he'd managed to shower her with so many compliments she'd forgotten to check his ID and managed to get away with buying beer for the house, despite being underage. He began mentally practising some lines in his head in preparation.

_"Sei incantevole"_  
"Sei bellissima"  
"Sei carinissima"  
"Grazie bella" 

As he entered the shop, he was pleased to see that she was sat behind the counter. He waved to her and blew a kiss and she flushed, looking back down at the magazine she had been reading.

He grabbed a trolley and wandered down the aisles, picking up various different drinks he thought people might like, and lots - _LOTS_ \- of food.

As he was walking up and down the aisles he received a text from Carlos that simply read:

_Buy a fish bowl._

Max snorted, wondering why the hell Carlos wanted some fish, but he wandered over to the pet section and found a round bowl that seemed large enough for fish to be happy, but not so large that it would take up too much room. He took a photo and sent it to his friend:

_[img]  
Is this OK?_

Carlos replied straight away to say it was fine, so Max added it to the trolley and headed to the counter to pay. 

His luck was in. He wasn't IDed and the girl even flirted back with him - or at least he thought that was the case, he didn't really understand the words she said - as she packed his bags for him. He ended up with five plastic carriers full of food and alcohol and the fish bowl, which he tucked under his arm.

He placed the goods in the car and drove home, parking as close to the apartment door as possible, so he didn't have to carry the bags too far. He pulled his keys out of his pocket in preparation for opening the door and grabbed the carrier bags from the backseat. He tucked the fish bowl back under his arm as he locked the car and walked towards the apartment block.

It was when he reached the door that he realised his predicament - between the bags and the fishbowl, he couldn't quite reach the keyhole. The bags bundled against the door and the side of the bowl, which was pressed against his chest and prevented him from reaching across. 

He placed the bags on the floor, and decided that the fish bowl would fit nicely on top of his head while he finished the rest of the trip up the stairs, allowing his to hold the bags and open the door without issue. 

It was the trip up the stairs that caused the next problem. Max took a few steps, bashing bottles and bags against the wall and the banister rail, and found that the fish bowl was slowly slipping down his face and obscuring his view. He shook his head a little, hoping to dislodge it, and found it dropping fully over his head.

He laughed to himself, remembering times when he was a child and he'd put bowls over his head and call himself an astronaut, and continued up the stairs to their apartment.

"Pssshh, Houston to Toro Brosso. The alcohol has landed," he said as he walked through the door, expecting to make Carlos laugh.

Carlos was not in the lounge or the kitchen, which were mysteriously spotless considering the short time that Max had been gone, and he didn't reply from any of the other rooms. Max walked into the kitchen and placed the bags on the side, noticing a quickly scrawled note that said:

_Gone to get some stuff. Back later. C_

Max sighed, assuming Carlos had gone to buy some fish and pullws at the bowl which had steamed up inside from his breath. 

It wouldn't come free. 

He tried to maneuver it over his chin but it wouldn't go past, digging into the back of his neck with each attempt. He spun it around, hoping that maybe the hole was oddly shaped and he just needed to find the right part to slide through, but no matter where he tried, it wouldn't pull up.

He began to panic a little, squealing and causing the bowl the steam up again as he pulled frantically, tripping over his own feet and landing on his bottom onthe kitchen floow. He tried to grip the bowl between his knees and pull his head backwards but it still wouldn't budge.

That was when he heard the door open.

"Carlos! Help!" he shouted, his voice echoing around the bowl and piercing his ears.

From the doorway he could hear someone howling with laughter and when he looked up he saw his team mate bent double, clutching his stomach and his eyes streaming with tears. Carlos fell to the floor, pointing at Max as he tried to speak, but only more laughter came out.

Eventually, the Spaniard managed to crawl into the kitchen and stop laughing, wiping the tears from his face.

"Why did you want fish?" Max sad, a pout on his lips having given u trying to get the bowl off his head, "Where are they anyway?"

"Fish?" Carlos asked before howling with laughter again, "Why would I ha... Oh my gosh, Max. I wasn't planning to use the bowl for fish. I was gonna make punch in it."

Max flushed, realising that his mistake was probably the least embarrassing part of his current situation, but feeling silly all the same.

"Can you help me get it off?" he asked, pointing at the bowl, "I can't do it."

Carlos climbed to his feet and pulled the bowl up to see where it was stuck. He examined the edges, before walking over to the fridge-freezer, dragging Max with him. He opened both doors, pulling butter out of the fridge and freeing the drawers from the freezer so that just the walls remained.

"OK, stick you head in the freezer so it cools down and contracts while I put some butter on your neck," Carlos said, pushing Max onto his knees and forcing his head through the door.

"Will this work?" Max asked, already feeling the cold on his exposed neck and shivering.

Carlos stuck his hand into the margarine tub, pulling out a large chunk of butter which he rubbed around the bottom of the bowl and Max's neck. He got down on his knees and began to gently pull at the bowl again. It seemed to be freeing slightly, despite the shivers from Max, but it wouldn't quite pull the full way over his chin.

"It's not working, is it?" Max sad, trying to force back tears and keep calm, "Will I have to go to A&E?"

"No, No," Carlos said, walking towards the opposite side of the room, "You'll be fine. We'll just have to smash it off."

"Smash it?" Max said, climbing to his feet and turning round to find Carlos swinging a large wooden spoon towards him.

He closed his eyes just in time as the bowl shattered around his head and the spoon hit him on the forehead. He fell to the floor again, landing with the shattered glass, clutching his forehead with hands he wished had moved faster to prevent Carlos hitting him.

"There we go," Carlos said, grinning, "Sorted."

Max lifted his hands away from his face, finally daring to open his eyes, and found them spotted in blood. His rubbed his hair and found more shards of glass which tinkled as the fell to the floor.

"Well, yea," Max replied, "I suppose at least it's off..."

He looked up at Carlos who stiffled a laugh at the sight of Max covered with butter and glass. There were tiny scratches around his cheeks and chin from the glass which had cut him and drips of blood were beginning to run from them.

"Ah..." Carlos said, puckering his lips in a thoughtful expression, "Didn't think about that."

Max was about to reply when he heard the door to the apartment open again. He turned to find Dan and Daniil walking into the lounge.

"We thought you might want some..." Dan started, waving some carrier bags in the before pausing as he noticed Max sat in a puddle of glass and his neck smeared in butter, "What the bloody hell happened here?" Dan asked.

"I can explain," Carlos began, reddening with embarrassment before being cut off by Max.

"It's not what it looks like..." the Belgian started, flushing so red that blood started to drip more heavily.

The two Dan's looked at one other, before bursting into laughter.

"You kids have some damn weird kinks," Dan grinned.


End file.
